Through the Years
by squeakyfingers
Summary: Chapter 3b up. A look at Gil and Catherine's past Christmases, using an experimental new style. Stories range from epic to drabble, from fluffy to angsty. GCR.
1. 1982

Through the Years  
  
By: Allison  
  
Disclaimer: Not my players, just my playground.  
  
Archive: The Graveyard, mine.  
  
Rated: PG-13 for now.  
  
A/N: The start of a new series that looks at Gil and Catherine's back story, starting with their very first Christmas. The chapters are a bit like standalones but connected. It's a bit of a new writing style for me. Thanks to Angie for encouragement and to Manda for the support. Thanks also go to the members/authors at graveshiftcsi: I love each and every one of your stories-you all make me strive to be a better writer.   
  
Summary: A look at Gil and Catherine's past Christmases, using an experimental new style. Stories range from epic to drabble, from fluffy to angsty.  
  
Chapter 1 - 1982  
  
+++++  
  
"Remember the day we first met?"  
  
"Um, Cath...of course I remember, it was six months ago. You think I forgot already?"  
  
"I didn't say that. I just asked if you remembered, that's all," a twenty-something Catherine Willows replied coyly as she sipped her eggnog. She let herself slide further into the oversized leather chair, eyes closing as the drink in her hand soothed her nerves. It was true, she'd met Gil, surprisingly, at a mutual friends Fourth of July party and immediately had hit it off.  
  
"Speaking of which, Julie and Mark are expecting us tomorrow."  
  
"So you got an invitation too, eh?"  
  
"Yesterday. Mark dropped it off on his lunch break." Grissom picked up the neatly decorated card and looked it over. "To Gil Grissom, and guest. You think he'd trying to tell me something?"  
  
Catherine's laugh rang through the townhouse, reminding Grissom of silver bells. It was her laugh, he knew, that drew her to him in the first place. Seeing her among a crowd of guests, her eyes shining brightly as her laugh seemed to float through the room. Once his eyes were fixed upon her, he couldn't look away. And when she'd caught him staring like the proverbial puppy in the window, she'd flashed him a smile, excused herself from the group she was with, and walked through the crowd towards him....  
  
"Gil? Earth to Gil?" Gil cocked his head sideways in bewilderment as the memory faded out of his mind. Catherine had placed her drink on the coffee table: her arms now folded across her chest, her gaze curious and questioning. "Have you been listening to a word I've been saying?"  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"And there's my answer. What am I going to do with you?"  
  
"Go to the party with me?"   
  
"You really weren't listening, were you? I'm invited too, we can't just be each others guests."  
  
"You tell me where in the Christmas party handbook that rule is stated," he teased as he moved to leather couch across from her.  
  
"I believe it's rule number 7, but it's been awhile. I'd have to double check." At that Gil laid back, kicking his shoes off and propping his feet up on the arm of the couch. The two friends fell into a comfortable silence. Continuing to sip on her eggnog, Catherine studied the man who'd grown to be such a dear friend over the past few months. They were so different, like oil and water really. And yet, he was the closest thing to a confidant she had at the moment. Gil Grissom knew things, things about her that her own parents hadn't ever bothered to ask about, that her other friends hadn't had time to worry about. She wasn't sure how exactly that had come to happen. He had a way of getting under her skin, pushing past her barriers. Sometimes she hated him for it; sometimes she loved him for it.  
  
Getting up out of the recliner, Catherine went to the front door, stopping briefly in the kitchen to refill her glass. On the table next to the door lay a brightly wrapped gift with the words 'to Gil' written on the top and taking it in her arms, she brought it back to the living room and set it down on the coffee table. She smiled to herself as Grissom eyed the large package. It had taken her days to think of the perfect gift, and hours of shopping to find it.   
  
"Catherine, you didn't have to." Gil smiled back at her. Then carefully he peeled the edges of the paper making sure he didn't tear it. What he saw, took him back. "Catherine, you really shouldn't have, it's amazing."  
  
"I wanted too. I've seen your old one a few times; it's pretty beaten up. It only occurred to me a few days ago that you might like a new one."  
  
Gil moved his hand across the fine metal outer casing on the field kit in front of him. The silver shined brightly against the light, the metal cool underneath his fingertips. Turning the latch, he opened it up. The inside was lined in black with a tray that folded out to reveal a spacious bottom filled with slots and spaces for all of his equipment.  
  
"Thanks Cath, it's perfect." He got up and went to the hall closet. "Now it's your turn," Gil called over his shoulder as he rummaged for what he was looking for. 'She likes to dance', he thought to himself as he pulled out the slender box from among the other gifts he'd bought. Catherine had told him once that she'd taken ballet when she was a child. It was her passion, she'd said. At age 16, she'd thought she would be famous someday.  
  
Gil had just been browsing when he saw it. The perfect gift. There was no hesitation in his choice. Within seconds he was up at the counter handing over his credit card.  
  
The look on her face would be worth it.  
  
"Go ahead open it," he told her as he placed it into her hands and sat back on the couch.  
  
Nimbly her fingers worked the paper off of the small, black, velvet box. She could feel the excitement building within her. Snapping it open she gasped at what lay inside. "Gil, you remembered."  
  
"How could I forget?" He smirked.  
  
Dangling upon a long silver chain, were tiny pair of silver ballet slippers, encrusted with aquamarine stones, Catherine's birthstone. And they definitely looked real.   
  
"It's...beautiful Gil. How did you pay for this?"  
  
"It's a secret," he replied as she moved over to wrap her arms around his neck. "I thought you deserved to have something as beautiful as you are."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
"Your welcome."  
  
"Help me put it on?" She held it out and he took it from her, their hands brushing together for an instant. Catherine felt the electricity shoot through her body and when she saw the look on Gil's face she knew he'd felt it too. She could feel his breath as it hit her in waves, mingling with the smell of his cologne. She loved the way he smelled, the odor of his favorite old leather jacket mixed with Old Spice. She lifted her hair off of her neck so he could put it on and found her lips just centimeters from his, aching to be kissed.  
  
~Soft lips.  
  
Soft hands.~  
  
He had soft hands. They tickled the back of her neck as he fiddled with the clasp on the necklace.   
  
"There, got it." He took his hands away, and she wished that he hadn't. "It looks stunning on you."  
  
Catherine fingered the necklace. It was cool against her skin, the stones flashing aquamarine light. Memories of long ballet practice and sore toes clouded her brain; memories of performances -good and bad, of the adrenaline as moved on stage in front of the crowd. Beautiful memories. Gil didn't know what he'd just done for her. He'd just given her something she'd thought she'd lost forever, her innocence.   
  
"Go with me," she whispered, leaning into him.  
  
"Go with you? I thought you were going with me?"  
  
"Mmm...sure. As longs as it's together, who cares?"  
  
"What made you change your mind?"  
  
"Ballet slippers."  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Catherine looked at herself in the dingy mirror that sat above the sink in her apartments bathroom. The necklace was still fastened securely around her neck, memories of the night before still fresh in her mind. She couldn't bring herself to take it off. It was as if she did then everything that happened the night before would be erased. She couldn't let that happen.  
  
Fixing the last pin in place, Catherine critiqued her work. Her long strawberry blonde hair was pulled back in a secure bun, her wispy long bangs framing her face perfectly. The dress she had chosen was the same pale aquamarine, ironically, spaghetti strapped with a back that plunged and chiffon hem that just brushed her knees. A pair of small silver hoop earrings and a set of strappy heels completed the ensemble and she was ready to go.  
  
And sure enough, her timing couldn't have been more perfect. Just as she fixed the strap on her sandal Catherine heard a soft knock at her apartment door. Gil. Grabbing her purse, she threw her keys into it and walked to open the door.  
  
"Hey Gil," she smiled wistfully. "You want to come in first, or should we just get going?"  
  
"If we leave now, we'll be there in time to help Julie and Mark set up."  
  
"Then lets get going," Catherine replied as she slid through the doorway out of the apartment.  
  
"Sure...hey Cath?" Grissom caught her arm as she moved past him, gently turning her back towards him. "You look absolutely amazing."  
  
"Thanks, you look pretty handsome yourself, Gil."  
  
Grissom held his arm out, and Catherine snaked her arm through it, pressing her body close to Gil's and they began to descend down the stairs to the first floor.   
  
It was going to be a wonderful night.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Since the moment they had arrived at Mark and Julie's, Catherine had kept herself firmly attached to Gil's arm. Not that he minded in the least. In fact, he was quite shocked at Catherine's blatant affections for him. Unless he was completely tone-deaf (which was a distinct possibility), Catherine had showed purely platonic feelings towards him since the start of their friendship a little over six months ago. And he, well he never thought she ever would have any other type of feelings where he was concerned. She was amazing-beautiful, smart, funny, witty. Truth be told, she was way out of his league, at least in his opinion anyway.  
  
"Hey Gil, I thought I made sure your invitation said to bring a guest?" Mark quipped; setting bowls of various munchies onto the coffee table in the living room.  
  
"And I did."  
  
"Catherine doesn't count."  
  
"Hey!" Catherine feigned hurt. "If I wasn't so secure with myself, I may have been offended by that."  
  
"You know that's not what I meant."  
  
"Sure, I did." Cracking a smile, Catherine moved herself a bit closer to Gil. "But I think I'd have to disagree with you...Gil here asked me to come with him as his date; picked me up and everything. You didn't think we just happened to show up at the same time, now did you?"  
  
"Well, yea, actually I did." Redness crept into Mark's cheeks as he realized his mistake. It stayed there for only a moment, however, as Mark's male ego did a reality check and kicked back into high gear. "I can't believe you finally asked her, hell, I can't believe she said ....hpfg!"  
  
Mark was cut off as Julie came up from behind and clamped her hand securely over his mouth. "Don't mind my husband, he can be such a pompous ass sometimes," she told them, her voice like honey, dripping with sarcasm.  
  
"Julie, you know his words go in one ear and out the other. It's been that way since freshmen year of college," Gil replied, placing his arm around Catherine.  
  
"Ah, when Mark thought he'd try to bum notes off of you so he didn't have to go to class?"  
  
"It never worked."  
  
"Yea, you had too many scruples," grumbled Mark once Julie had removed her hand from his mouth.  
  
Gil remembered those days, when pizza and caffeine ruled the twosomes late night study sessions. Mark and Gil had met in their freshman biology class and became fast friends. It surprised them both when they realized they lived in the same building, Gil on the first floor, and Mark on the third.   
  
"Maybe you should have just gotten your ass out of bed and went to class. Then you wouldn't have had to beg me for notes half of the time."  
  
Mark laughed, his lanky 6'2 frame shaking with delight, "What fun would that have been? I mean really? I probably would have slept through half of the lecture anyway." He winked, knowing it was true. Behind his light brown eyes, and shaggy brown hair lay a man with a near photographic memory; someone who could commit something to memory faster than you could say it.  
  
"I think that's what you were doing when I met you!" Julie smiled as she found her way into Mark's arms. The brunette's green eyes met her husbands and Catherine and Grissom watched as Mark fought a losing battle. Julie had the man wrapped around her little finger. She knew it, and though she rarely used such charms in swaying her husband, sometimes they were necessary. "At least Gil was awake when he met Cath, you were snoring away in advanced chem. class when I saw you."  
  
"Honey, don't you have guests to attend to?"  
  
"Actually, yes, I do. Excuse me, you two, I should go mingle with a few of the other guests."  
  
"You wouldn't happen to want someone to tag along with you, would you?" Mark asked as he untangled his arms from hers.  
  
"Chivalry really isn't dead, now is it?"  
  
And the two wandered off arm in arm, through the crowded living room and into the dining room, stopping briefly and chatting with the other couples. He watched them for a moment-he couldn't help it. The investigator in him, the analyst, wondered what it was that made them so perfect for each other, what kept them together. They seemed to be, well, made for each other.  
  
He felt Catherine lean into him, her bare arms shivering slightly against him. Taking off his leather jacket, Gil slid it over her arms. She turned towards hem and gave him an appreciative smile.   
  
"Julie was right...about chivalry."  
  
"I'm just helping out a friend, no need for you to catch a cold on my watch." He rose and motioned for her to take his hand. "Would you like a dance?"  
  
"Most certainly good sir," Catherine replied, taking his hand and rising from her spot. Strands of Bing Crosby's "White Christmas" played softly on the stereo, and Catherine wrapped her arms around Gil's neck as he placed his arms about her waist.  
  
To Gil the dance was magical. Catherine's body seemed to melt into his own as they swayed to the song. All the people in the room vanished, and it was just the two of them. Catherine's head rested on his chest, and when he looked down at her, she was smiling, her eyes closed as she enjoyed the moment. Then Gil closed his too, and let himself become lost in her.  
  
When they finally realized where they were, and that the song had ended, a room full of people were watching them, silent, expectant. No one moved, no one dared to ruin the moment. Gil remained cemented to his spot on the floor, arms still around Catherine when Julie ran into the room.  
  
She stopped once she made it through the crowd, eyebrows raised knowingly as she took in the situation. "Erm, you two...you're under the mistletoe," she declared, pointing towards the green leafy sprig tied loosely to the ceiling fan. "Our doorways are to low for it. People would have kept hitting," she shrugged.  
  
Catherine looked at Gil. Gil looked back at her. He found himself getting lost in the deep azure blue sea of her eyes. He was drowning in them. Reaching up, he ran his finger softly down her cheek.   
  
Then he bent down and kissed her. Softly at first, tenderly. She brought her hands up and ran them through his curly brown hair before deepening the kiss.   
  
~Soft lips.  
  
Soft hands.~  
  
She had both.  
  
Right then, he felt like they were made for each other.  
  
TBC. 


	2. 1983

Through the Years  
  
By: Allison   
  
A/N: written as a short, vignette type story from Catherine's POV.  
  
Chapter 2- 1983  
  
Catherine stared out at the crowd, green and red lights pulsating to the beat of the music pouring out of the speakers. The lights reminded her of Christmas, of places she knew she'd rather be, of people she'd rather be with. But one of the girls had called in sick and Grissom had to go out of town at the last minute-they'd exchanged gifts the previous night. So here she was, on Christmas, alone, in front of a crowd of sweaty men who should probably be with their families and not in some dive watching strippers on Christmas day.  
  
She could see the man in the back row smiling at her as she danced, and she smiled back - sweetly, seductively. After her set, she made her way through the crowds to him.   
  
When they spoke, he looked at her -not her breasts or her legs; he looked her straight in the eye. His own eyes held a vague resemblance to the ones she wanted so desperately tonight.   
  
He told her his name was Eddie and asked her her own. He reminded her of Gil -of gentlemen and knights on white horses.  
  
"Catherine," she replied, smiling again.  
  
He offered her a cup of coffee, and she accepted even though she knew he wanted more.   
  
She couldn't have Grissom tonight, but she certainly could have someone else. At least she wouldn't be alone on Christmas.  
  
TBC. 


	3. 1984 part a

Through the Years  
  
By: Allison   
  
A/N: Broken into two parts for sheer cliffhanger factor. Part B should be up in the next few days.  
  
Chapter 3 - 1984: part a  
  
+++++  
  
"This is nice."  
  
"What's 'this'?" On this Christmas day Catherine Willows found herself sitting in a booth across from Gil, who was acting more and more strangely as the seconds ticked by on her silver fossil watch. He'd asked her to have lunch with him so they could exchange their gifts. It was tradition, he'd told her over the phone, and you just couldn't mess with tradition. She'd dutifully reminded him of the previous year, where his presence on this particular holiday had been absent. They could do it another time, a day where she wasn't busy; she had plans with her boyfriend Eddie Willows to go see his family.  
  
But Gil was adamant, and after ten minutes of coercion, he'd gotten her to agree.  
  
"Us. Together. You've been pre-occupied, I missed you," Gil replied setting his coffee on the table. He wanted to talk to her like he used too, before she started distancing herself from him. Ever since she'd started dating Eddie Willows she'd been different. She rarely called him anymore, and when she did they were short cryptic calls. When she wasn't working or studying, she was out with Eddie. He left messages on her machine that she never answered, and in the off chance he actually got to see her she seemed to be flying so high he couldn't keep up or bone tired like she was running on empty.  
  
Today was not unlike the latter, her red rimmed eyes framed by dark circles she hadn't bothered to hide.  
  
"I haven't been pre-occupied."  
  
"Yes, you have Cath. And all I'm saying is that it's nice to spend time with you. It wasn't it meant as criticism."  
  
"I'm allowed to have a life, Gil. I'm not the self-professed hermit you claim to be. I'm sorry if between work, and school, and Eddie I've somehow neglected you, but I've been busy."  
  
"I said I wasn't being critical. You don't have to be so defensive."  
  
"Well you certainly sound like your being critical," She retorted, her eyes glazing over with anger. "You know, maybe this was a bad idea."  
  
"Cath..." Gil moved his hand to rest over top of hers. He thought of the book he had out for in his car. He'd seen it at the local college bookstore on lazy afternoon after his seminar had gotten out, a book on the Manson Murders. Just a semester ago, Catherine had entered UNLV. She'd told him that he'd inspired her, what he did fascinated her. She'd thrown herself headfirst into her work, learning quickly and soon declaring her major in Medical Technology. Catherine loved mysteries and puzzles, and as she studied she slowly became fascinated by the Manson murder. They were her ultimate mystery.   
  
He wondered if he'd be able to give her the gift now...given how angry she seemed to be now, she might not even want it.  
  
"Don't. Gil just don't. I can't do this."  
  
"It's Eddie, right? He doesn't want you to see me?"  
  
"No, it's not that at all." Catherine grabbed her purse from the table and fished out some money for a tip. "I shouldn't have come Gil." And she left him alone, boots clicking on the tile floor as she exited the diner.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Tears slipped down Catherine's cheeks as she made her way down the sidewalk to where her car was parked. She hated him right now. For making her feel so vulnerable, so guilty, without even knowing why. But she hated herself more. She'd made a mess out of everything and she had no idea how to fix it.  
  
Hadn't he realized that he was to good for her?  
  
Getting into her car and buckling up the seatbelt, Catherine lay a hand on the glove compartment box, aching for what was inside, her escape. She knew she needed a fix, and she needed one fast. Her heart was pounding in her chest, the bugs crawling under her skin, gnawing at her very being as she sped off towards her apartment.  
  
What would Gil do if he found out, about her? About everything Eddie, the coke, the lies... she was sure he'd never speak to her again if he knew.  
  
It was easier to push him away. It was easier to let him hate her for distancing herself from him than letting him know the truth. She learned quickly growing up that the truth hurts... and she never wanted to hurt Gil.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
It took Grissom five minutes to register what happened at the diner before he was able to get up and leave. Somehow his mind couldn't grasp the situation, and as he drove around the streets of Las Vegas in a haze, Catherine seemed to be all he could think about. She was hiding something; he knew that. He wasn't sure what exactly it was, but he was going to find out.   
  
Grissom wasn't going to let her shut him out. An hour and a quarter of a gas tank after he'd set out from the diner, Gil found himself idling in front of her apartment complex. Shutting the engine off, he got out and jogged up the stairs and to her door. It was open slightly open when he reached it and as he made his way through the door he was taken back at what he saw.  
  
The apartment was a mess; empty pizza boxes lay about the floor near the living room table. Shoes and a pair of jeans lay at his feet near the doorway and he could see the pile of dishes in the kitchen sink from where he was standing. Gil knew she'd been spending a lot of time at Eddie's but he'd presumed that she'd at least been home enough to clean up after herself.  
  
"Cath? Hey Catherine, are you here?" Grissom made his way through the small hallway that lead from the living room to bedroom. "Come on Cath I know you're he-"  
  
Gil stopped short as he entered her bedroom, normally forbidden territory. Lines of cocaine were haphazardly set out on the bedside table Catherine passed out on the floor beneath, blood running from her nose.  
  
"Shit." Grissom ran over to her side, grabbing the cordless phone off the table as he cradled her head in his lap.  
  
"911 emergency how can I direct your call?"  
  
"Yes, I need an ambulance at 301 East Sands Avenue, apartment 242, on the second floor. I think my friend just overdosed."  
  
"Sir, sir, I need you to stay on the line. The ambulance is on its way." The voice on the other end informed him calmly.  
  
"Please hurry." Grissom replied hastily. He wasn't sure how many lines Catherine had done, but it looked like quite a few. He held her body as the first seizure came and went. Wiping the stray blonde hairs from her ashen face Grissom places a kiss on her forehead and waited.   
  
Why hadn't she told him what was going on?  
  
TBC. 


	4. 1984 part b

Through the Years  
  
By: Allison  
  
Chapter 3 part b  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Desert Palms Memorial Hospital  
  
Catherine awoke to a nauseating feeling in her stomach and a strong hand clasped in her own. Opening her eyes slowly she recognized the man sleeping in the chair next to her bed as Gil Grissom. She wanted to speak, but found that she was unable, and her hand reached towards the tube that was down her throat.   
  
"Cath honey, relax," Gil was awake now, taking her hand away from the tube and giving her a reassuring smile. "It's helping you breathe; just leave it be for now, okay?"  
  
All Catherine could do was nod.   
  
"I'm going to go find a doctor, okay?" And again she nodded. Gil rose from his seat and left, Catherine now alone with all her thoughts. She tried to remember what had happened. She remembered the first line of cocaine, and vaguely the second and third, but after that, there was nothing. Just blackness, just nothing.  
  
Had Gil saved her? It had to have been him. Surely it wasn't Eddie, he'd had a gig that night. Besides, Eddie was the one who gave it to her in the first place; he wouldn't care what she did with it. Catherine remembered the day before, when Eddie had dropped the cocaine off at her apartment. She'd wanted him to come in, she needed to pay him...maybe they could have some fun, she told him. But he'd refused, said it wasn't his thing.   
  
Looking back maybe that should have been some sort of sign, or omen, or something.  
  
Gil walked back in with a tall dark haired doctor in tow. Just looking at him made Catherine feel sick. God was screwing with her; she knew it. He couldn't just let her die; no he'd let her live to feel how it felt to be the smallest, weakest person alive.  
  
"Cath-I'm back." Grissom moved back over to the chair that was next to her bed. In seconds his hand was in hers. She didn't deserve this from him. She'd yelled at him-lied to him. She'd done basically everything in her power to keep him away from her-and yet, here he was, holding her hand.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Cocaine.   
  
He'd never thought that Catherine could be using. When he'd come to talk to her at the diner, he just thought she was busy...too busy to get in touch with him. It never occurred that maybe she just didn't want him to find out about her habit.   
  
Snapping back to reality, he only half listened as the doctor told him and Catherine what was going on. Though he was focused on Catherine and her well being, he was even more focused on what he was going to do when she got out of the hospital. She couldn't stay with Eddie; Grissom wouldn't let her. Eddie was part of the problem, not part of the answer. The minute that Grissom had met him, he knew something just wasn't right.   
  
This had proved it.  
  
"It's going to be okay, Cath..." he murmured into her into her hands as he brought them up to his face. He saw the pain in her eyes, the guilt. How he wanted to make it go away. "I swear it's going to be okay."  
  
But even he wasn't too sure, himself.  
  
TBC. 


End file.
